


A fair trade

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Timelord, blind!twelve, eyesight, post-oxygen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 12:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: The doctor considers the outcome of giving his eyes up for Bill's life.





	A fair trade

The last thing the doctor had seen before going into the void of space was Bill's terror and dying before his eyes, breathing in panicking, as he tried to pry the helmet out of her locked hands controlled by the suit. Fear coursing through the doctor's veins. Fear coursing through Bill's vein's. It felt like like he was going to lose Susan, again, to the wrath of time. Never see her alive and well with a wide, happy smile. Not see her with her friends and her adopted mother. He would never see her again but he could hear the woman. She was still alive. That was all that mattered to his sacrifice. Against never hearing  or seeing her again lurking about Earth was _unacceptable_. Timelords could survive the vacuum of space longer than humans. It was a fact that the doctor had taken himself to be overjoyed. But he couldn't see. He wasn't able to see after the eye regenerator had been used. He had been aware that this could happen. It was a risk that he had accepted when he saw Bill dying. When his options were dwindling. Sure, Timelords could survive in the open vacuum of space. They lasted longer than any humanoid in the known time and space.  
  
One hour and thirty-three minutes.    
  
Anything more than that would cost them their lives.  
  
And actually being dead was another story.  
  
Trying to determine if they had not died not died yet but since being in the vacuum of space, being sure that they were dead was a easy task. Nardole looked at the doctor with dismay. He didn't need to see to know that it was on his expression. Seeing was the doctors greatest asset. Asides to many assets on his person.  The sonic screwdriver, feeling, the psychic paper, the TARDIS, his intelligence, and his companion. Timelords were known to be more of the alien version of the superhero Daredevil when it came to lacking their eyesight. Acted like nothing was wrong. Timelords could adjust to it. Faster than humans. He was a hybrid so getting used to being blind was difficult at first and he needed help. He did not like being helped. Sure, he could fix the problem. But that would require regenerating. And he wasn't done. Not at the least done. He planned to regenerate when Bill had left.  
  
He could play the charade up wearing dark shades for the rest of their time together.  
  
It was worth it.  
  
The doctor considered the exchange.  
  
Bill was alive and well.  
  
And he couldn't see.    
  
It was  a fair trade.  
  
The doctor had a sip of his favorite tea considering how to best organize his lectures for the foreseeable future. The doctor couldn't see the young one smile, the angry look on the robots face, the furious looks of those who was antagonizing, the looks of joy on those he had helped earlier and for the foreseeable future. He had excellent hearing. He took another sip of his tea. The worst part is that he wouldn't be able to see if the prisoner behind the vault had escaped. He just would not be able to. The doctor cleared his throat with a sigh. A fair trade indeed. He couldn't lose another companion on his watch. Lose the memory of them again.  If that happened again, he didn't know how he would come back from the dark. He was in the dark. He could feel the sunlight pouring into his office. He looked in the direction of the TARDIS.  
  
"Oh, shut up," the doctor leaned back taking another sip. He lowered the cup down from his lips. "I am perfectly fine," He glared at the TARDIS's direction as his face softened.  His dark shades laid on the counter alongside the photograph of Riversong. "Old girl.  .  ." He stood up, then traced along the edges of the table coming over to the TARDIS. He went further in the empty space between the two. He reached his hand out for the TARDIS going forward. His hand rested on the blue paint that felt fresh and warm and humming. "I need some help with our girl."  
  
The TARDIS hummed.  
  
"I don't want her to worry," the doctor said. "not about my eyesight," his hand stroked down the side of the TARDIS. "Not about me. . ." he shook his head. "Think you can pinch in?" he looked up toward where the windows would be. "At least when we are inside you," He had lied about having spare eyes to the girl. Words to reassure her that everything was going to be fine afterwards when he wasn't sure. Not any of his equipment could fix what his eyesight had fallen into. The cloud like appearance in his eyes were gone but there was a sea of darkness lurking in his vision. He lightly patted on the TARDIS. "The time of twelve is ending. . . Could you make it less obvious to our dear friend?"  
  
The TARDIS loudly hummed.  
  
"Good," the doctor said.  
  
A weary, old smile grew on the doctor's face. 

**The End.**


End file.
